


Anticipation

by LikeBetteOnABadDay



Series: Every Trousseau Needs a Corset [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Bondage, Consensual Kink, Consensual non-con, Crossdressing, Feminization, Gags, M/M, Rape Fantasy, Self-Bondage, Self-Lubrication, Sex Toys, nipple rings, self-gratification, use of a mild soporific that could be construed as drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2019654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeBetteOnABadDay/pseuds/LikeBetteOnABadDay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the train, Stiles prepares himself to meet Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anticipation

**Author's Note:**

> So I couldn't resist writing a little prequel from Stiles's PoV. This takes place shortly before the first scene of the previous fic.

Stiles was expecting the knock on his door, but it startled him nevertheless.

Wiping his suddenly sweaty hands on his trousers, he went to open it.

‘Mr Stilinski?’ The man standing there was dressed in a chauffeur’s outfit, and Stiles had to resist the impulse to giggle. Apparently the chauffeur also took on extraneous tasks such as getting omegas ready to send to his master.

Stiles nodded. He knew the building he lived in was pretty ramshackle, the interiors no better than the exterior. One of his windows was hanging off its hinges, and there were cracks in the walls. Derek’s man was obviously well-coached, and wasn’t betraying any disdain for the kind of company his master apparently kept.

Stiles gestures toward the man’s empty hands. ‘Weren’t you, uh—supposed to bring me some stuff?’

‘It’s in the car, sir. You’ll change on the train. Lord Derek didn’t want you to travel in discomfort.’

Trying not to be surprised at the unexpectedly considerate gesture, Stiles nodded and picked up his travel case. ‘In that case, I guess I’m ready when you are.’

‘Allow me, sir.’ The chauffeur took the case from his hand, and led the way downstairs to where a shiny black limo awaited them. Stiles barely resisted rolling his eyes as he got into the back, wondering what his neighbors were thinking of his very expensive ride.

*

He had a first-class cabin on the train. All to himself.

The journey would be tolerably short; Derek’s manor was less than three hours away. There was plenty of time to change into the outfit that had been provided to him. There was also a small bottle of some sort of sweet-smelling liquid. With it was a little note. It was in an envelope sealed with the Hale crest, and Stiles sat down and took a deep breath before breaking the seal.

_My dear Stiles,_

_I hope this message finds you in good spirits._

_The bottle contains a mild sleeping draught. I can assure you that it is absolutely safe to drink, but I leave it to your discretion whether you want to consume it. I know the last leg of your journey will be discomfiting to you, and once again, it pleases me greatly that you chose to adhere to my request. The drink will dull the discomfort and help you sleep. I must confess that the thought of you restrained and pliant is almost more than I can bear._

_In addition, I thought you might prefer to be unaware when Jenkins follows my wishes and puts you in bondage. If you so wish, you may dress yourself, drink the contents of the bottle, and let Jenkins know that he is to attend to you after you have fallen asleep. You will only remain asleep for a short while, my gorgeous Omega, and you will awaken in my arms, bound and gagged and plugged and mine to do with as I please for seventy-two sweet hours. Again, you have my word that no harm shall come to you. I will not allow it. Jenkins is my most trusted servant; he has attended to me since I was a child, and I assure you that he would no more allow any harm to befall you than I myself would._

_Yours in anticipation,  
D_

Stiles didn’t know whether he was turned on by Derek’s explicit words or touched by his obvious concern; probably both. The phrase _my gorgeous Omega_ jumped out at him as he sat with the letter clutched in his fingers. It wasn’t common to see the word ‘omega’ spelled with a capital ‘O’. Stiles knew he’d be used thoroughly during the next three days in every possible kind of filthy and debauched way, but _this_. This actually felt like the precedent to something else. To something real, rather than a quick assignation for mutual gratification.

He let his gaze move back up to some of the explicit words that Derek had written without any abashment or self-consciousness. There was nothing else for it: his cock was already straining for release, his hole wet and clenching with the effect of Derek’s words.

He opened the box that Derek had sent, pulling out the thin gossamer garment and laying it aside. Beneath it were the items that Stiles would need to prepare himself: a wooden phallus, a large bottle of oil, a pair of nipple rings in their own little velvet box, a stick of kohl, some rouge, a ring-gag, a little ball of twine—Stiles’s cock twitched at the sight of it, knowing where it would go—and several neatly-coiled lengths of rope. A large wooden crate sat near the door, full of sweet-smelling hay. 

He stripped quickly and picked up the nipple rings. He’d had his nipples pierced a while ago, but never worn anything as expensive as the little gold rings Derek had insisted on sending. Sliding the delicate metal through his piercings made his nipples throb with arousal, and Stiles had to bite his lip to keep from moaning. He could easily imagine what Derek was going to do to his nipples. Bite them, lick them, suck them, ravage them with his lips and teeth, his stubble rubbing against them. He’d call them Stiles’s tits, chew and suckle on them until Stiles was writhing with need.

Slick was leaking from Stiles’s hole now, beginning to trickle down his thighs. He didn’t actually need the oil that Derek had provided, but Derek had requested that he use it, and the idea of following orders was a lot more enticing than Stiles would have believed possible. He coated the phallus with it, and then inserted the slick rod into himself. He moaned aloud as it sank into his hole, fucking it in and out a few times. It took a massive effort to hold back from fucking himself to orgasm right then. 

Clenching his hole tightly around the toy, he stepped in front of the mirror and quickly painted his lips with the red rouge and his eyes with the kohl. The dress came next, whisper-thin as it fell into place around his body, hiding nothing. He sat down on the seat and picked up a couple of the coils of rope, lashing them tightly around his thighs, knees and ankles. The ring-gag was last. He’d need to take it off to drink the soporific, but wearing it made his arousal spike even further, and he couldn’t resist.

He struggled into a kneeling position on the seat, and sank down until his buttocks met his bound feet, his heels pressing against the base of the phallus. He slid his hands under the short, flimsy dress, one palm cupping his balls roughly, kneading and squeezing them as an Alpha would, making himself moan, pretending he was struggling to get away from a hand that was molesting him. He rubbed at his nipples and twisted them with his other hand, leaving his desperate cock untouched for now. He’d already started thrusting against the plug, moving up and down with a rocking motion, helped along by the swaying of the train. It was all too easy to close his eyes and imagine that he was impaled on an Alpha’s cock, that he was being taken by force, moaning helplessly through his gag. He began bouncing harder, fucking himself with frantic movements as he mindlessly chased his release. It came the moment he allowed himself to wrap his hand around his cock, spilling over his fist as his hips continued pumping up and down.

Thoroughly spent, he allowed himself to fall on his side, curled up like some used thing that had just been roughly fucked and discarded.

*

Jenkins had his orders, given to him through the closed door, and Stiles had swallowed down the sweet drink in one large gulp. He did pride himself on not being ashamed of his needs, but Derek had correctly anticipated that he wanted to be unaware when his hands and torso were bound. It heightened the illusion that he was being taken somewhere against his will, and would soon awaken as a captive to be ravished over and over.

Already feeling the effects of the drink, Stiles sat down and quickly scribbled a note on the back of Derek’s letter.

_Alpha,_

_I hope all the arrangements were to your liking. I did my best to ensure that your orders were followed to the letter._

_S. Stilinski_

He rummaged in his case for the wax stamp he was carrying. Derek had been adamant that their correspondence remain private. 

He set the sealed letter on the seat next to him. The last thing he did was to bind his genitals the way Derek had asked him to: twine wound around his now-soft cock, balls separated and tied securely. The thrum of arousal was already back under his skin, his body buzzing with anticipation. 

_You will only remain asleep for a short while, my gorgeous Omega, and you will awaken in my arms, bound and gagged and plugged and mine to do with as I please for seventy-two sweet hours._

Stiles couldn’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Got any requests for any scenarios that you'd like to see? Feed the muse with your prompty thoughts, and I'll be happy to oblige if I can. :)


End file.
